Emma
November 27, 2024
The city storefronts are already aglow with lights and decorations. Green garlands tied with red ribbons, golden stars, and fake snow blanket every corner. The city seems to transform into a magical wonderland as Christmas approaches, and I can’t help but smile every time I see it. For me, it’s the best time of the year.
My name is Emma Montiel, and I’m in charge of the decor and ambiance for my family’s hotel chain, Montiel Hotels. I’ve loved art and design since I was a little girl, and after I graduated college, my parents entrusted me with bringing a unique touch to every space in our hotels. The Montiel name is synonymous with elegance and warmth, and my mom always says my final touches give our properties the soul they need.
Ever since I was a kid, Christmas has been special to me. It’s a time when my family sets aside the demands and formalities of the hotel business to just be together. During this season, my parents seem less busy, and that always made me feel closer to them. My parents, Sofia and Ernesto Montiel, have spent their entire lives building our hotel chain into one of the most prestigious in the country. They’re demanding people, and their lives have revolved around the business. While they’ve always been proud of me, sometimes I’ve felt like the hotels were their true priority.
That’s why it feels ironic that this year, when I’ve been more focused on my work than ever, they’ve decided to “loosen the reins a bit,” as Mom put it during our last family meeting. “It’s time to enjoy more and work less,” Dad declared, and Mom nodded with a satisfied gleam in her eyes. Apparently, now it’s my turn to carry the weight of the Montiel name.
Still, I’m not bothered by it. I feel ready to take the lead on the company’s projects, and the idea of decorating the hotels for Christmas has me thrilled. I’ve already come up with a special concept for this year: a Nordic style with vintage accents, warm lighting, and wooden details. Everything in earthy tones and gold—a Christmas that evokes the coziness of home.
After work, I headed to the little coffee shop where I often spend chilly November afternoons. It’s a cozy spot with wooden tables and hanging lights. I sat by the window and watched people pass by, bundled up in scarves and coats. Everyone seemed to be caught up in the Christmas spirit—everyone except me… and Lucas, the son of my mom’s best friend. Though he has his own reasons for that.
I sighed, thinking back to a conversation I’d had with him a few days ago. Unlike me, Lucas has always seen Christmas as just another day, with no special meaning. For him, there’s no “magic” in the air or excitement in the lights. It’s just a season of shopping and obligations he avoids at all costs. I couldn’t help but wonder what must have happened in his life to make him feel that way.
Lost in thought, I didn’t even notice the door open until a tall, familiar figure stood right in front of me. Looking up, there was Lucas, with that signature mix of confusion and resignation on his face. He looked so out of place in the festive atmosphere of the coffee shop, dressed in a black coat with a slight frown, as if something about the environment annoyed him… though, to be honest, that’s pretty much his default state.
“Mind if I sit?” he asked, his deep, slightly rough voice catching me off guard, as it always does.
“Sure, go ahead,” I replied, as he settled into the chair across from me and draped his coat over the back.
Lucas is the kind of person you notice right away, even if you don’t mean to. His presence fills a room in a strange way, without him doing anything to draw attention. He’s tall, with an athletic build, and his dark hair is styled in a casual but somehow perfect way. His jawline is sharp, his skin pale, which makes his dark, enigmatic eyes stand out even more—like they’re hiding secrets he’ll never share.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, feigning surprise, though there was genuine curiosity in my voice. Lucas isn’t the type to hang out in coffee shops decked out with Christmas lights or to stop and soak in the holiday vibe.
“I was passing by and saw you through the window,” he said nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. It’s the posture he takes when he’s trying to keep his guard up, to keep his distance.
I watched as his gaze swept the room, lingering on the strings of lights hanging in the windows, the red and gold decorations, and the small Christmas tree tucked in the corner. It was subtle, but I noticed his brow furrow just a little at every festive detail.
“Everything okay?” I asked, leaning forward slightly to catch his attention.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. It’s just…” He paused, as if unsure how to put his thoughts into words. His eyes met mine, and for a brief moment, his expression softened, just a tad. “I’ll never get why everyone gets so hyped about this. It’s just Christmas.”
I smiled at his comment. I knew Lucas didn’t share my attachment to the holidays, but there was an almost amusing honesty in how he said it, like he was letting me in on a little secret.
“You really don’t feel anything special about Christmas?” I asked, genuinely curious. It’s hard for me to wrap my head around how someone could be so indifferent to a season so full of magic, lights, and joy.
He let out a faint, humorless laugh and looked at me with something like amusement in his eyes.
“The only thing I feel about Christmas is exhaustion,” he shot back, glancing around again. “The decorations, the carols, people rushing around to buy gifts… I don’t know, Emma. It feels like everyone tries way too hard for something that only lasts a couple of weeks.”
I shook my head, holding back a smile. Lucas and I have always been opposites in that way. For me, Christmas is a time to reconnect, to hit pause, but he seems to see it as some unavoidable burden.
“Maybe what you need is to let yourself get swept up in the spirit, enjoy it a little. You could try,” I said, not really expecting him to change his mind. I knew Christmas didn’t mean the same to him as it does to me.
He stared at me for a moment, and I thought I caught a flicker of something deeper behind his impassive expression—a shadow that vanished as quickly as it appeared. He tilted his head, a barely-there smile tugging at his lips.
“Not gonna happen, but…” Lucas paused, falling silent for a beat before looking away toward the window. “I kind of envy you, you know? The way you enjoy these things, something as simple as Christmas. It’s… different.”
His words caught me off guard. I hadn’t expected Lucas, the reserved, skeptical guy who questions just about everything, to admit something like that. I stared at him for a few seconds, wondering what lay behind that cynicism.
My phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up with a message. When I saw the name “Beatriz,” Lucas’s mom, I frowned instantly. Beatriz is one of those women who obsesses over every detail, someone for whom everything has to be perfect and planned, especially during the holidays. Reading her message, something inside me tightened.
Beatriz: “Emma, dear, I hope you’re doing well. I wanted to let you know that this year we’ve decided to play ‘Secret Santa’ at the Christmas dinner. We’ve included you, and Lucas will be participating too! I know you’ll both have fun getting ready to surprise someone special this year.”
I reread it, trying to figure out why I felt a twinge of unease. The idea of spending Christmas with Lucas already felt a little… odd. And now, knowing I’d have to take part in this game with him and the rest of the family made me oddly nervous.
“Everything okay?” Lucas asked, noticing my expression.
“It’s… your mom,” I muttered, setting the phone down on the table.
He raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement on his face.
“What does she want now? More decorations or some over-the-top request for the dinner?” he said, narrowing his eyes like he already suspected something.
I let out a short laugh.
“No, it’s actually something that caught me off guard,” I said, turning the phone toward him so he could read the message. “Apparently, she’s decided we’re doing a ‘Secret Santa’ for Christmas, and… we’re both in. Not that it bothers me, but you know how seriously I take Christmas. If I get someone tricky…” I gave him a pointed look.
Lucas read the message, then looked up at me with an expression that was part amusement, part resignation.
“You’re worried about Secret Santa? Or about getting someone like me?” he asked, crossing his arms and giving me that challenging look of his, with just a touch of humor in his eyes.
“Maybe both,” I admitted, realizing there was no point in hiding my thoughts from him. Lucas could be pretty perceptive when he wanted to be, and he’d learned to read me like an open book.
For a moment, we sat in silence, staring at each other like we were locked in some unspoken challenge. There was something about his presence that made me feel… curious, and at the same time, a little unsettled. Getting to know him had been like meeting someone from a completely different world; Lucas was the opposite of me and everything I expected from someone during this time of year.
Finally, Lucas sighed and leaned forward.
“Here’s a tip, Emma. If you get someone ‘tricky,’ as you put it, don’t overthink it. Christmas doesn’t need to be so perfect, you know. Sometimes, simple is best.”
I looked at him, a bit surprised. That was a new idea for me; my whole life had revolved around making every Christmas moment special, ensuring everything sparkled with the magic I loved so much. But maybe he had a point. Maybe there was value in not planning every detail, in letting things unfold naturally, even if it meant not impressing everyone with the perfect gift.
“You might be right,” I said at last.
Lucas smiled—a genuine, slightly smug smile, like he knew he’d just scored a small victory.
“Of course I’m right,” he replied, leaning back in his chair with that effortless confidence that came so naturally to him.
I glanced at my phone one last time, no longer with unease but with a small smile. Maybe this Christmas, despite everything, would turn out to be an interesting challenge.
I finished my coffee, savoring the last few sips slowly, while Lucas watched me in silence. Though the moment felt calm, I could sense his restlessness; he’s never been the type to sit still for long. I set my cup down, and before I could say anything, he stood up and grabbed his coat.
“Come on, I’ll drive you home,” he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
I looked at him with a mix of surprise and amusement. His authoritative tone always managed to make me smile.
“Thanks, but I’d rather walk today. It’s cold, but I like the crisp air on nights like this,” I replied, slipping on my own coat as I saw him frown.
For a second, I thought he’d insist, but instead, he let out a sigh and shrugged.
“Fine. In that case, I’ll walk with you,” he said, as if it were a simple decision, leaving no room for me to argue.
I smiled, secretly grateful for his company, though I knew he probably just wanted to make sure I got home safe. We left the coffee shop, and once outside, the cool air and the sounds of the city wrapped around us in a comfortable silence. The streets were adorned with Christmas lights, the storefronts decorated, and everything seemed to have a special glow this time of year.
Lucas walked beside me, not saying much, but somehow, his presence felt reassuring. Though we were opposites in so many ways, there was something about him that made me feel safe.
“Do you always take this route?” he asked, breaking the silence as he glanced around.
“Not always, but it’s a good spot to think. Plus, with everything going on at work and at home, walking helps clear my head.”
Lucas nodded, as if he understood. We kept walking, the cold air surrounding us, while the Christmas lights glowed softly around us. We walked in silence until the familiar outline of my parents’ mansion came into view in the distance, illuminated and majestic in the night. I stopped at the entrance, and so did Lucas.
“Well, here we are,” I said, looking at him with a grateful smile. “Thanks for walking with me, Lucas.”
He met my gaze, a glint in his eyes I couldn’t quite decipher.
“No need to thank me, Emma. You know I’d rather make sure you get home safe,” he replied, his deep voice seeming to carry more meaning than his words let on.
We stood in silence for a moment, and for an instant, time seemed to stand still. We looked into each other’s eyes, and something in his expression shifted—a rare vulnerability he seldom showed. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by his usual serious, neutral demeanor.
“Get some rest,” he said finally, giving me one last look before turning and walking away.
I watched him until his figure disappeared into the distance, wondering what lay behind those silences and those looks.
I opened the door to the mansion, and the cozy warmth of the house enveloped me immediately. The air was filled with the scent of cinnamon and pine, a combination that always permeated the place this time of year, thanks to my mom, who loved decorating every corner with Christmas touches.
As I stepped into the living room, I saw my parents sitting on the couch by the fireplace. My mom, with her slightly worried expression, was the first to look at me.
“Emma, honey, where were you? It’s late,” she said, standing up and coming over to me, studying my face as if assessing every detail of my mood.
“I was at the coffee shop in the square. Just needed a little time to myself,” I explained, taking off my coat and hanging it on the rack near the door.
“By yourself?” my dad asked from his spot, though his tone sounded more curious than concerned.
“Not exactly,” I replied with a small smile. “I ran into Lucas, and he walked me back.”
My mom raised an eyebrow, a spark of excitement lighting up her eyes.
“Oh, how thoughtful of him,” she commented, her voice carrying a tone that hinted at something more. I’d learned to recognize that inflection she used whenever Lucas came up.
I let out a sigh, bracing myself for what was coming, and before I could say anything, my mom continued with the same enthusiasm:
“By the way, honey, tomorrow we’re going over to Lucas’s parents’ house for breakfast. Beatriz invited me, and I thought it’d be nice to spend some time together before the Christmas dinner.”
I felt my expression shift into a mix of surprise and slight discomfort. It’s not that I don’t get along with Lucas’s family; in fact, I grew up around them, and our parents have always treated each other like one big family. But I wasn’t prepared to spend more time than necessary with Lucas, especially after everything I’d felt during our walk.
“Breakfast?” I repeated, trying to mask my thoughts as I looked at my mom.
She nodded with an enthusiastic smile.
“Yes, Beatriz mentioned something about the Secret Santa and said it’d be fun for us all to be there. They want to do something special this year, something more intimate.”
I glanced at my dad, hoping he’d chime in with some objection, but he just nodded, as if the idea of an early breakfast was the most normal thing in the world. Clearly, they were both thrilled about the invitation.
“Okay,” I agreed finally, trying to sound enthusiastic.
My mom studied me for a moment, as if trying to read my mind, then gave me a reassuring pat on the arm.
“You’ll see, it’ll be fun, Emma. Besides, it’s Christmas; what better time to share with the people we care about?”
I nodded, trying to seem more open to the idea, though inside I felt a slight unease. I knew that tomorrow I’d have to face Lucas again and deal with that strange dynamic that had surrounded us tonight—a mix of closeness and tension.
With a sigh, I said goodnight to them and headed up to my room, trying to convince myself that the breakfast would be simple, just a family gathering with no complications. But a part of me knew that with Lucas and his family, nothing was ever as straightforward as it seemed.